Unexpected Celebrations
by Kameka
Summary: A response to a Writing Challenge – Write a story or poem for one of the lesser-known holidays of the month of December. December 16th: National Chocolate-covered Anything Day. rated to be safe. please pay attention to the note at the end :


Title: Unexpected Celebrations

Author: Kameka

Rating: er... PG? T? not a clue lol

Disclaimers: Not mine; no money made; don't sue me. As if you would with the wonderful mental images you can get.

Notes: This is for Kattie….. because she was amused by the idea and enjoys my random ranting and ideas. Kattie, love, you know what comes next. Going to take it on?

Summary: A response to a Writing Haven Challenge – Write a story or poem for one of the lesser-known holidays of the month of December. December 16th: National Chocolate-covered Anything Day.

~~TorchwoodCelebrations~~TorchwoodCelebrations~~TorchwoodCelebrations~~

Myfanwy screeched as she flew above the heads of the Torchwood 3 team, the racket gaining not even a glance upwards as they continued to work away at their stations. The Rift had been quiet the past few days and some hoped that it would remain that way. After all, what better way was there to end a year then some relative peace after the insanity of the months before? Of course, as Owen had pointed out, then they were due for a major problem early in the New Year.

A bell rang, Ianto Jones automatically standing up as his eyes sought the monitor showing CCTV footage. There was customer in the Tourist Office that was their front, the first in days. He quickly started up the back way, not wanting to scare a tourist to the oh-so-wonderful city of Cardiff by a giant door sliding open in a stone-covered wall. Anything like that would just cause people to ask questions and Torchwood retconned enough residents without adding in hapless tourists.

He was gone for close to forty-five minutes, the woman spending the majority of her time browsing and asking inane questions. Customer service truly was not his forte, to the amusement of his team-members. He did, after all, spend a large part of his time taking care of them, the resident aliens, and any living object that the Rift threw out at them that wasn't attempting to kill them. One wouldn't think that being polite and answering questions to an innocent bystander wouldn't bother him all that much. It was Owen's influence, the Welshman was sure.

The Hub was deserted when he got back, Toshiko's computers up and running without her operating them, Gwen no longer on the phone to her police constable friend that sent so much work their way. Owen was no longer puttering around his samples of God only knew what doing something only he saw the relevance to. Even Jack's office was abandoned, the light leaning drunkenly against a stack of folders, a few papers lying forlornly where they had drifted to on the floor.

Yet again, they had gone out on a call and left him there alone. Hadn't they fixed that problem? He was more than just the office boy now!

Sighing, he began to tidy up everything as best he could, not knowing what the rest of the team would be like when they got back. Sometimes euphoric, sometimes preoccupied, sometimes injured, bleeding and worried; they ran the gamut of post-mission emotions. He had reached his own desk when he stopped abruptly and raise an eyebrow.

How on earth and everything beyond had he managed to miss _that_?

Sitting on his chair, the comfortable black one that Jack insisted he have whenever he worked down here, was a large basket. A gift basket, from the looks of it, though Ianto was pretty sure that there hadn't been a delivery beyond food in weeks. Unholstering his gun and picking up a pencil to prod at the shiny opaque plastic that was merrily tied with a ribbon, he poked at it, muscles tense and ready to jump backwards and shoot at the slightest provocation.

You could never be too careful when dealing with whatever the Rift tossed at you. It had a disturbing tendency to make you regret blindly accepting things no matter how innocuously cute and cuddly they seemed.

When nothing happened, Ianto stepped closer and fingered the bluish-silver ribbon. A quick glance around confirmed that he was still alone. Idly wishing that he had backup, or at least an ETA on when people might arrive to find his body splayed out on the concrete floor of the Hub, he took a deep breath and pulled one of the curls. The ribbon pulled away in his hand and he dropped it onto the desk, carefully pulling the baby blue plastic as he did so.

It opened to reveal…

Chocolate.

All of that drama, for a simple basket of chocolates. Good chocolates, Ianto decided as the richly sensual smell of it rose even through the packages. He started to gingerly dig through them. There were some of the gourmet chocolate stirrers for coffee, a selection of Toblerone, even Godiva and a few other pricey ones from other countries abroad.

It was a chocolate lover's gift… assuming it wasn't poisoned.

A card tucked partially under a few scattered pieces negated that possibility. What type of person would leave a card at a murder scene, unless it said something similar to "ha, ha, got you." Taking the cream cardstock out of the matching envelope, a smile broke out across Ianto's face. Written on the front, in elegant, scrawling calligraphy was a single sentence.

_For my favorite Welshman on one of my favorite holidays._

This completely unexpected gift was from Jack.

The immortal definitely knew how to feed his addictions, Ianto thought ruefully as he looked over the selections he had taken out of the basket already. There was even more inside. Ignoring the sugary confections for a few moments, longer, he eagerly flipped open the card to see what more Jack had written. The consummate flirt didn't do romance or mush more often, not that Ianto himself particularly wanted it, but when he did it, he did it right.

Slamming the card shut, the Welshman could feel a blush rise on his pale skin as he looked around the Hub searchingly. Good, still no one there. Had he really been wishing there was someone, only a few minutes ago? Another furtive peek confirmed that his eyes had seen what he'd thought they'd seen. Nicely framed by the rich feeling cardstock was a photograph. It was a rather nice one, if you looked at it clinically. The lighting was superb, the shadows lending an air of mystery to the young male subject. Even the obvious, explicit nudity wasn't as in your face as one would think. It would do any photography teacher proud, if a student of theirs took photos like that.

It was the fact that Ianto was staring at his own face that made such stand-offish observances impossible.

It was his bed in the background. The familiar burgundy sheets were rumpled, pillows askew. There was his autumn shades comforter bunched up on the background. Unidentifiable pieces of clothing were tossed haphazardly around. Was that an undershirt hanging off his nightstand? All in all, it was the very picture of an energetic night spent with his lover.

He just didn't remember having the picture taken. Given the overt sexuality of the pose, he was pretty sure why Jack hadn't bothered to tell him of the picture taking. He wouldn't have said yes. Not that he was a prude or anything of the sort, although he kind of was compared to his adventurous immortal.

His immortal.

The Welshman kind of liked the sound of that.

The noise level in the cavernous room began to rise as his team members returned from where ever they had been. Gwen and Jack were coming down on the invisible lift, neither one of them ever tiring of the amusement and thrill of becoming invisible. The alarms for the door started as the doors slid open, Tosh and Owen making their way through it as they chatted. Ianto stuffed everything back into the basket and turned to look at his comrades.

"Anything on?"

"Turned out to be nothing." Jack answered as he made his way over to Ianto's desk and leant one hip against it. Before he said anything more, Gwen was on her way and beginning to look through the items that Ianto had lifted onto his desk.

"And who gave you this?" she asked, casting a gap-toothed grin his way. "Oh, Ianto, you have to share!" she stated as she pulled item after item out of the basket with no preamble. Her excitement caused Tosh and Owen to make their way over before Owen shook his head in disgust and walked away. Tosh smiled at him a bit shyly, refraining from Gwen's rudeness even as she looked on in interest. Then, she hit pay dirt. The card and envelope, which had been buried quickly and safely under chocolate, was revealed. She immediately snatched the card up.

"Oh, how sweet! 'For my favorite Welshman on one of my favorite holidays.' I adore Rhys," Gwen confided, "but he's not really the sweet romantic type. I doubt he'd get me anything like this, even if it was my birthday or Saint Valentine's." Ignoring Ianto's grab for the card, probably thinking that he would be embarrassed by whatever mushiness was inside, she opened it…

And immediately began to blush, dropping the card from nerveless fingers.

"I… I…" For once at a loss for words, Gwen's helpless look went between Ianto and Jack. Blushing harder, she averted her gaze to Tosh, thinking the Japanese woman would be relatively safe. Picking it up with two fingers, she carefully avoided looking at it and handing it to Ianto, almost sighing in relief when he tucked it into the envelope before safely stowing it in a jacket pocket.

Fighting his own blush, Ianto shook his head when Gwen tried to say something, anything, to him.

"You really should have known better, Gwen," chuckled Owen from his own desk. "Anything from Jack couldn't be _that_ innocent."

Ianto swung his head to look at the resident medic. "You know what's on the card?" A feeling surprisingly like hurt began to blossom in his chest. He hadn't known about his modeling experience, but the idea that Jack would share it with someone like Owen before even letting Ianto himself know was distressing.

"No. And I don't want to," Owen assured him with all sincerity possible in his voice. "I just know what kind of mind Jack has."

"I… right. You know, Jack, this is a _work_ place." Shaking off the shock Gwen had received, she started to go through the rest of the basket rather gingerly. Cards were dangerous. Chocolate was safe. A few seconds later, she found a small flat box. It looked almost like a jewelry box that would hold a bracelet or chain of some sort. "Oh, did you look at this yet?" She held it up for Ianto to see.

"No."

"Open, open, open!" She shoved it towards him.

Biting his bottom lip ever so slightly and glancing at Jack to make sure it was safe to open in mixed company, he accepted the small package. A raised eyebrow was his only answer and Ianto slowly opened it, ready to shut it again at the slightest hint of anything inappropriate.

Safely nestled inside a bed of dark blue velvet was a small paintbrush. He fingered it, glancing at Jack and wondering just what had been going through the immortal's mind when he had gotten this… surprise… ready for him. He was still looking at it in bemusement when Gwen snatched it from him, eager to see whatever expensive bauble her not-so-secret love had shopped for.

"It's a paintbrush. I didn't know you paint." She passed the small box over to Tosh as she began to investigate what had been under the box.

Pulling out a small group of that looked like pictures from paint-by-numbers kits, she laid them to one side with disinterest.

"I don't," he answered, shrugging a shoulder.

"I like to," Jack chimed in, grinning over at the Welshman, a look not caught by Gwen. "I gotta admit, I prefer finger-painting, though."

"Jack… really. Finger-painting? Isn't that a bit juvenile?" The question was asked absently as she began to look through what else was hidden on the very bottom of the basket.

"That really just depends on how you play at it." At Gwen's incredulous look, the immortal shrugged a shoulder. "Trust me."

"Don't worry, Jack, we have faith in you," Tosh spoke up, a winsome smile on her face.

Gwen pulled out a series of small jars and set them up in a line on the desktop. Picking up one of them, her brow furrowed as she tried to read the looping handwriting on the label. "St. Germaine's Body Paint; for the consumer with a discriminating palate." The jar was held loosely as her gaze went to Ianto, who was once again blushing furiously.

"Oh, I know them! Their products are supposed to be wonderful. They're all natural, no chemicals or anything like that in them. They're hand made, not mass produced at all. Quite expensive. I've even heard that they only sell to a select few. It's impossible to find their store unless you get directions from them, or a customer takes you personally."

Tosh fell silent as the heads of all of her team members turned to look at her.

"How does a shy little thing like you know about things like that?" Owen clucked and shook his head. "Our little Toshiko is growing up." The mournful talk was erased as he nodded his head appraisingly. "You have some unexpected depths, Tosh."

Blushing, Tosh began to back up. "I…" She shook her head and turned around. "I have work to do," she muttered, cursing herself as she made her way to her own workstation and began to look intently at the screens set up before her.

"It's a great store," Jack put in, leaning forward to rest his forearms on a computer monitor. "I've been going for years. I'm actually a silent partner, or my father was." He grinned at the flustered Gwen.

"And your own best customer, no doubt," Owen's sarcastic comment came as he was abandoning them.

"Right. That's quite enough." Ianto put as much of his Welsh pragmatic stoicism in his voice as he could, with the embarrassment curling around his spine. He started to gather up everything that both he and Gwen had taken out of the basket, starting with the exclusively made body paint.

His lover was a silent partner in an exclusive sex shop. Even knowing some of what Captain Jack Harkness had gotten up to in the last few years of his immortal life, Ianto hadn't been prepared for that.

Going to put the basket safely away in the small research room he had off the tourist office, Ianto ignored Gwen's protests that she hadn't picked out any goodies. "I'll leave a selection in the kitchen, Gwen. A selection to share," he stressed, seeing her gleeful look. When Jack looked about ready to protest, he gave a curt shake of his head. "Don't start," he told the immortal in as cool a voice as possible.

"Just remember to take it home with you tonight. I'll be there at 8 with dinner." He stood up and made his way into his office. "You know," he called across the Hub right before the door closed behind the Welshman, "I really am looking forward to you helping me celebrate today."

Ianto blushed yet again and hung his head, looking down at the basket. The card Jack had left felt like it was burning a hole in his silk shirt.

What had he gotten himself into?

Oh, well, expected or not, it was turning into a wild ride.

The End

Reviews will be welcome, and will perhaps spawn more of this.

And now a note to whom-ever read to the end: I'm ending this here for the moment. I do have ideas for continuation, but I honestly don't know if I will continue it in one way or another. However, if any of you lovely readers are inspired by this small fanfic and would like to continue it (with any character, any pairing, any length – no limit here, guys), you are absolutely welcome to. I only ask two things: 1) you give me credit for the original idea / the story that sparked your own, and 2) you send a link via review, PM, or email to your story so that I can read and enjoy it myself.


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